


out of my Hands

by ghoulaesthetics (astraielle)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 18:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: The Iron Bull was notsoft, but...





	out of my Hands

**Author's Note:**

> hey do u know what this world could really use more of? iron bull fluff. 
> 
>  
> 
> (kiana/@galpalaven is a Horrible enabler lmao)

The Iron Bull was not soft. 

Or, well, maybe he was--just a little bit, in a certain slant of light. It was hard to tell after all this time. Par Vollen was not kind to soft, did not allow it to grow and flourish. On Seheron, soft would make sure you wound up dead. But Skyhold was neither of those places, and in its private quarters and hours spent off duty, soft was allowed. Encouraged, even. It certainly didn’t spell a death sentence out for anyone who would indulge themselves. 

They barely knocked on each other’s doors anymore. There was little need, given that most of the time that wasn’t spent taking care of the Inquisition’s needs or in the Herald’s Rest was spent in her quarters. They were bigger, for one thing, and the roof there was significantly less full of holes. That didn’t mean all free time was spent there, of course. At present, Bull found himself seated on his edge own bed in the room he’d claimed for himself above the tavern, sifting through some cost-related forms for the Chargers. Mostly for his own records, seeing as they’d been consistently employed by the Inquisition since Haven. The room was conveniently located, and more often than not, it was pleasant to watch the sky change through the unrepaired roof. 

He recognized the familiar quick footsteps coming up the stairs just outside the door that connected to the tavern. Isenril, obviously. He’d know that walk wherever he was. As if adding a double confirmation, she opened the door and let herself in without waiting for permission. 

“Coming in,” she announced as she was already stepping through the doorway, closing the door with a dull thud behind her.  It wasn’t particularly brisk outside, and it certainly wasn’t cold inside the Herald’s Rest, but all the same she’d bundled up in a red, thickly knitted sweater to keep the evening chill off her shoulders. It looked about two sizes too big, shoulder seams sitting somewhere closer to her elbows, and a few of the buttons were missing near the bottom, but she didn’t seem overly bothered by it. If anything, she just looked like someone who was prepared to spend the evening comfortably.

“I can see that,” he chuckled as she stepped out of her boots, leaving them neatly by the exit. “Drinks too boring without me down there?”

She scoffed, crawling up on the bed and taking up real estate with her back against the headboard. “Hardly,” she said with a laugh, adjusting her position until she sat comfortably with her legs crossed. “Well, maybe a bit. But I’ve got enough wine in my room--not what I’m here for.” Her hand reached into the sweater’s pocket and she pulled out a jar of... something. He wasn’t sure. It was opaque, no fancy designs or hints about what it might've contained, and aside from a very subtle self-satisfied smile she wore, her face betrayed nothing.

“No?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at where she sat with a slight raise of his brow. The papers in hand could wait, he decided as he reached over and placed the stack on the side table. With that, he switched positions, moving as gracefully as possible until he found himself laying mostly on his side facing towards her, head propped up by an arm. Without thinking, he reached for her free hand resting in her lap, giving her fingers a soft squeeze. “Don’t tell me you came to find me after dinner just because you missed me today,  _Kadan_.” 

“And if I did?” She gave him a half-smile in response, brushing her thumb over his knuckles a few times before leaning over and placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “You know I just enjoy being around you whenever I can.” She wasn’t letting go, and instead decided to lace her fingers in with his. A little bit awkward given their positioning on the bed, but neither moved to loosen them. 

The Iron Bull was not soft, but god _damn_ , there was something about the way her voice would sound when it was just them together alone, something about that look on her face that was reserved purely for him in quiet moments, something about the way she touched him like the most precious thing in the world. None of that would have had a place at any other point in his life, and it was another point in favour of his status as Tal-vashoth. On some level, she knew that too. 

Suddenly looking as though she remembered she had an actual purpose here, her eyes snapped up and back to the smallish jar she’d brought with her. “That’s definitely true, of course, but I actually brought something for you. A reason for the visit, aren’t I considerate?” She was back to looking quietly smug, and he had to laugh. 

“Truly, the martyr of the Inquisition,” he grinned, “When they look back and tell tales of Lady Lavellan, they’ll make sure to include the bits where she brought weird jars into her lover’s room.” 

“Ass,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “You want to know what it is or not?”

“As long as it’s not going to be Sera’s bees.” 

“Yes, because one of my favourite pastimes is opening jars of live bees in a room I’m sitting in. You really nailed that one.” She was still chuckling when she finally freed her hand from his, unscrewing the lid and holding the open container near his face. “Smell. Tell me what you think it might be.” 

He did so, instantly smelling something deep and herbal with notes of Royal Elfroot throughout. It wasn’t a scent he was familiar with, but there was something about it he almost recognized. The closest thing he could think of was...

“Horn balm?” He finally asked after contemplating for a few moments. “How did you manage to scrape some of this stuff up around  _here?_ ”

“Trial and error, mostly,” she said with a light shrug. “Playing guess-and-check with herbs and seeing what would work best for the end purpose. I know there’s really no way to get the actual product in Orlais or Ferelden, but I remember hearing you ask if Varric knew if there was any left in Kirkwall and, well...” She smiled gently once more, the lightest shade of pink dusting her cheeks. Not embarrassed, she was past that at this point, but slightly bashful for sure. “I’m not exactly a herbalist. But it should work alright for the itching and dryness. And... I kind of wanted to surprise you with something nice if I could.” She looked back at him eagerly, replacing the lid and awaiting some sort of reaction. 

He thought back to the conversation she was talking about--that discussion had taken place months ago, was hardly more than a passing topic, and he didn’t even think she was completely listening to them. 

“ _Shit_ , Isen,” he finally said with a loud laugh, pulling her down for an enthusiastic kiss. She  _squeaked_  upon being moved so suddenly, but was already smiling against his lips when she finally made it over. “You didn’t have to,” he said as he pulled back slightly, “But you’ve got no idea how glad I am you did. That’s been driving me up the damn wall for _months_.”

“I figured as much,” she laughed breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his. “I’m happy that  _you’re_  happy though. And now I’m extra-hopeful that the mixture is in any way at all effective.” And then, after a pause, “Actually, we could test that now. If you’re not busy, of course.” She returned back to her previous spot with her legs crossed, one hand still lingering on the side of his face.  _Cute_  wasn’t really a word most people would think to attribute to Bull.  _Hot_ , sure,  _handsome_ and  _rugged_ were also contenders. But _cute_  was still very much the first word that came to her mind right now, with the way his remaining eye seemed to practically sparkle up at her and the absolutely contented look on his face. 

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, if that’s what you mean.” 

“Good,” she replied happily. “Come here and give me your final verdict on the mixture then.” At that, she patted one of her thighs invitingly, glancing down at her lap and then back to him. 

Bemused, he gave her a slight look. “Pretty sure you’d have trouble fitting my whole body there,  _Kadan_. I’m not sure if anyone’s ever told you this, but there isn’t a lot of you to sit  _with,_ such a  _tiny_  thing.” 

She drew back, placing a hand on her chest in mock surprise. “ _Really?_ You know I never pieced that one together from the knots in my neck after a day of craning it to make eye contact. Anyway, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” she chuckled. “Just your head. Lean back, relax, let me do something nice for you. It’s not like you’re not doing sweet things for me all the time--you know, you deserve it often,  _ma_   _Vhenan_.” 

It wasn’t as if he was going to protest the offer, even if he was planning on ribbing her a bit for it. The pet name was an undoing, though, and with no complaints, he moved across the bed, eventually finding a comfortable position on his back with his head in her lap, closing his eye almost as soon as he’d settled. “Alright, you’ve got me where you want me. Anything else?”

She hummed thoughtfully, re-opening the jar. “Just this,” she answered, tapping the strap of his eyepatch. “May I?”

He gave a small, half-assed shrug. “Go ahead.” 

She removed it unhurriedly, carefully unfastening the straps and lifting the curved piece of metal away. As was her habit whenever she spotted him without it, she leaned down and placed a few kisses on the newly exposed scars. The angle was a little bit awkward, but she was flexible enough and folded forward just fine. 

“Alright, let’s hope I actually managed to make something more than a glorified perfume.” She rubbed her hands together for a few moments, making sure they’d be a more pleasant temperature than her usual icy digits, before dipping them into the jar. The balm itself felt almost like beeswax to the touch, except smoother. She rubbed her hands together just a few more times, to be sure, and then set to work. She started at the front, rubbing small circles over cuticles where skin gave way to bone, slowly working her way around. “This is alright?” she asked as she went about the motions, going back into the jar as needed. 

“ _Mmhm_ ,” he sighed, practically rumbling with soft pleasure. The mix she’d come up with was good, maybe not as good as what he would’ve had access to on Par Vollen, but it was moisturizing and soothing and performing its intended purpose well enough. Her hands were slow and gentle as they moved on his head, getting more into massage territory as they went. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she made a point of periodically leaning down to steal kisses whenever she pleased. 

She laughed quietly somewhere above him. “I’ll take that as an affirmative.” In truth, Isenril often felt as though she didn’t--couldn’t--do  _enough_  for the man. So often, he’d rather make it about  _her_  pleasure. And she was glad for it, of course. Never in her life had she ever met someone who enjoyed seeing her happy as much as her  _Vhenan_  did. But things like that were a two-way street, and it wasn’t a feeling of debt she carried, just a simple sense of wanting to do  _more_. There was something almost intoxicating that came with making the person you loved feel good, and after everything he’d been through, the things he’d told her and what she’d gathered on her own, she couldn’t think of anyone more deserving. 

It was mostly quiet in the room, save for the deep, even sounds of his breathing and her own soft humming. The skin around his horns seemed moisturized enough by now, looking significantly more cared for than when she started. Her hands hadn’t stopped moving, only now they dipped lower, going over the sides of his face and neck, mostly trying to work out any tension she felt as she went onto his shoulders. 

“Still awake?” She asked in a quiet voice. On one hand, she would have been beyond pleased to see him that relaxed. On the other hand, she knew that if she were to let him stay where he was, her legs would invariably go numb, and that meant they would likely start to involuntarily twitch as the pins and needles set in. No doubt that would make for an uncomfortable pillow. 

“Completely alert,” he replied without opening his eye, corners of his lips tugging up slightly as he gestured vaguely with one hand before letting it flop back down on the mattress. 

“Oh, very convincing,” she giggled, ducking forward and kissing him once more. Not a quick one this time, his hand raising up to rest on the back of her neck, holding her there just a _little_ longer. 

“Really,” she said with a happy little sigh as she pulled back, “Let me know if you’re about to pass out so I can move somewhere that won’t have my knees lock up in an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled. A few pieces of hair managed to escape from her ponytail when she leaned over him the last time, and despite the fact that he was still staring at her upside down, he thought it framed her face quite nicely. He reached up for her again, catching some of the strands between his fingers. She closed her hand around his, turning her head slightly to press her lips against the heel of his palm, eyes never once leaving his face. 

The Iron Bull was not  _soft_ , but...

“ _Kadan_?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.” 


End file.
